Brentwood College School - Brentonian Yearbook (Mill Bay, British Columbia Canada)

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First girls at Brentwood: Alex House, 1972-73 Bus Driver ' s ' A ' Licence Exam, forgetting he was in the bus, pulled into a gas station, and tore off half the roof. His good humour, still intact, after I arrived at Mill Bay via the Victoria Ferry, and he had gone on a wild-goose chase to meet me in Nanaimo. His year of office as the Chairman of the Canadian Independent Schools ' Headmasters ' Conference. His perennial remark at the tea-party after the International School XV match, that this was ' the best night of the year. ' His scoring of a fine try only a few weeks ago. against the Japanese Over 40 Wak Wak Tourists. The list is endless for David, as it is for Joyce who has contributed so much also: in the early days as Domestic Bursar, in costumes for school plays, entertaining parents, governors and staff, driving students hither and thither, playing field- hockey for the staff XI — but I have to finish. Inevitably, a review such as this is mainly in the past tense. Unfortunately this smacks of an obituary, and David is still much alive. Like Mark Twain, David will, I feel, be sure to remark that ' the news of my death was an exaggeration. ' After a year ' s sabbatical, he will still, I imagine, be a force in Brentwood College, even if he is not the Headmaster. Let me conclude by repeating what I said at the Students ' Farewell Dinner for Mr. and Mrs. Mackenzie — ' Many will boast they attended Brentwood College. But you and I can boast we were at Brentwood while David Mackenzie was Headmaster. ' I.R. Ford Address to Brentwood College Graduating Class: June 1976 | DE MANU IN MANUM 1 Mr. Mackenzie, Members of the gradutating class and imminent Old Brentonians, Ladies and Gentlemen It is indeed a great honour for me to be invited to address the gradutating class on this auspicious occasion. Having accepted, I began to have an increasing sense of impending disaster and I wondered about a suitable topic and how to compose and deliver such a speech. However, some of your predecessors reassured me that it really would not matter what I said, as in all probability none of you would be listening as they themselves could not remember who had addressed them at the time of their graduation or the subject of his talk. These statements were hardly calculated to restore my confidence. In the course of my mental wanderings, it occured to me to wonder how many of you really know the motto of this school — De Manu in Manum — and for what it stands. Literally, it may be translated as From hand to hand and the crest is emblematic of the torch of I learning. However, it has always ; seemed to me that this crest, a torch j held by a mailed fist, and the motto | are particularly applicable to | Brentwood in the light of its history. ! This school was founded in 1923 ] by a group of men who were j concerned about the standard in this ' province and the relative lack of opportunity for the boys of that time ; to participate in physical as well as academic activities. Accordingly, they

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David and Joyce Mackenzie . playing the 3rd XV ' s of other Independent schools, the 1st XV finally won a game. He was naturally delirious when we won the Independent Schools ' and B.C. Championships. But he was, I suspect, almost as pleased when we put out 12 different XV ' s on the same day. Basketball, softball, tennis, soccer, snowball fights, sledge runs down the driveway, skating on the frozen tennis courts — it didn ' t matter what it was, David was there. His recent interest in jogging has led those of us with weaker wills to marvel as he has braved the elements. His philsophy is ' Mens sana in corpore sano ' and he practises what he preaches. I realize I am in danger of painting a picture of a man that is just too good to be true — a sort of cross between Mr. Arnold of Rugby and Lord Baden-Powell. I mean this remark cynically, with a typical 20th century scorn of ' do-gooders, ' but I suspect David would be flattered with the comparison. He is, essentially a ' Victorian gentleman. ' In an age of relaxed morals, he often surprised us when his Calvinist streak showed through. Years of naval service meant he had a broad outlook not often found in Scottish Presbyterians, but he could be genuinely shocked and deeply hurt by some of the actions of the students. Some of the Staff concert sketches left him embarrassed. It is again typical of him that his idea of a good school concert bore many of the marks of a camp-fire song. The most esoteric productions of Gil Bunch (and which of his productions is not esoteric?) David just did not understand. He smiled politely, applauded enthusiastically, realized he was watching something very good, but wondered why Gil could not put on some ' fun ' thing like ' Charlie ' s Aunt. ' For years we could set off a heated argument by suggesting in David ' s hearing that Gil put on a production of Gilbert and Sullivan. As usual, David had the laugh, for, since the arrival of John Queen, we have had biennial performance of G. and S. These musical tastes are again typical. I have an abiding memory of David, sitting on a log, playing his accordion, and leading a sing-song of students and villagers on Mill Bay Day. The School Band was his passion, and he was never happier than when playing the trombone, or tuba, in some military march, or selection from some Broadway show. Again his middle-brow tastes proved correct, for they reflected the preferences of most of the audience. If I appear to have painted a paragon of virtue, I must admit that David has one vice. He is a thief, and what he steals are some of my better lines. How often have I sat through Speech Day to hear one of my jokes attributed to, of all people, a parent. I can, however, forgive him, as he is the best audience I have ever had. He laughs at all my stories, bad, good and indifferent. As the Rev. Sydney Smith said, ' It requires a surgical operation to get a joke well into a Scotch understanding. Their only idea of wit is laughing immoderately at stated intervals. ' As David was essentially a Victorian, so did he have their universality of interests. It is impossible to deal adequatley with fifteen years in an article such as this. I could write a book. A few random thoughts, however, spring to mind. David, happy at having passed his

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Isf VIII: Canadian Schools Champions, 1973-74 planned a school to be run on English public school lines. The site selected was the Brentwood Hotel at the south end of Saanich Inlet and the first headmaster was H.P. Hope, previously principal of Oak Bay High School. However, it was a somewhat different school then — the maximum capacity was 110 students with 3-4 bed dormitories, and the only two Houses were separate floors of the old hotel. The whole school took part in physical training at 7:15 each morning, grace was recited in English or Latin before and after each meal by the duty prefect, and there were two church services each Sunday, but basically the routine was much the same. There were, of course, no girls. Initially the school prospered and it soon won a name for itself both academically and in athletic activities, particularly rugby and rowing — how history is repeating itself! Then came the lean years of the Depression which were somehow survived and the school continued until 1947 when a distastrous fire gutted the main building. Left standing was the chapel which was to a large extent built by the boys who each worked one afternoon a week on its construction under the direction of one full-time carpenter. The cornerstone for this building was laid on October 25, 1925 and services were held in it by 1929. This is now the Brentwood College Memorial Chapel which some of you may have attended for the Annual Memorial Service each November. The only other building left intact was the old 6th Form classroom across the road which now functions as a church hall. No funds were available to re- build the school, and for a brief period the school occupied premises at Shawnigan, an erstwhile but friendly rival over the years, but this was not successful and the following term it moved to the old R.C.A.F. hangar at Patricia Bay. However, this attempt to maintain its existence was doomed to failure and the remaining 22 boys, together with the school trophies, were taken over by University School. Nevertheless, at a memorable meeting of the Old Boys Association attended by a handful of members and held at University School in 1948, a few die-hards defeated a motion of the executive to join with the Old Boys of University School. This would have been the last nail in the coffin of Brentwood College, but the Old Boys preferred to carry on alone even though there was only a very forlorn hope that the school would start again — but hope springs eternal. Consequently, each year thereafter, a group of Old Boys, led by a more or less constant nucleus, met in Victoria at the Empress Hotel on a Saturday close to November 11th, and on the following day attended a service at the old chapel in memory of their colleagues who were lost in World War II, which none of you can recall. Much to the bewilderment and consternation of the then Headmaster of University School, we mustered a larger number from a defunct school than attended a similar meeting of his own school, and it was with an anxious note and a quavering voice that he enquired whether there was any possibility that Brentwood would start again. And so it was for 13 years until, at one of these Old Boys Meetings Mr. Privett, the last headmaster of Brentwood, enquired whether anyone knew of the whereabouts of the original school register as he knew of an individual who wished to start a school as he, too, was concerned about the standard of education in this province. That individual turned out to be your own present headmaster who